


Glass

by veexenn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Bisexual Male Character, Cheating, Child Abuse, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fanfiction, Father/Son Incest, Forced Masturbation, Forced Relationship, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Incest, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, M/M, Major Illness, Male Protagonist, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, POV Third Person, Parent/Child Incest, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Porn with Feelings, References to Depression, Sexual Abuse, Sick Character, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Tragic Romance, Verbal Abuse, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veexenn/pseuds/veexenn
Summary: The crash and burn of one 17-year old boy who wanted the world, but shattered before he could get it.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 16





	Glass

It was agonizing.

Iwaizumi Hajime sat at his desk in his dimly-lit room, tuning out the screams and cries for help. In the room adjacent to him, his father shattered glass. Hajime heard another ear-piercing shout, which called his name.

"HAJIME, HELP ME!" His mother called.

Despite her efforts to try and get Hajime's attention, he had trained himself to ignore this. His father, who was drunk almost every day out of the year, did this often. His mother, oblivious to the abuse, blinded by love, had let this go on for far too long.

Iwaizumi turned up his music, which made the noises outside his door and in the next room deafen just enough for him to be able to focus. He lowered his head further into his math textbook, copying down the questions as he read how to do them. Finals were coming up, and he could not waste a single second doing anything but studying.

If he was going to get out of here, he'd have to get into a nice college.

The pain he felt inside this house was like nothing he had ever felt before.

It was like he was a bird, trapped in a cage, unable to figure a way to get out. His hands gripped the bars, but the guards wouldn't let him out. Every time he attempted escape, the glass bottle would shatter over his head, leaving him bleeding and on the brink of death every time. He had learned to accept the punishments, even when they weren't fair. Even when he did nothing wrong, he still accepted the punishments out of fear. Iwaizumi hated himself for this, but there was close to nothing he could do to stop this. The amount of times he had tasted blood was unhealthy for a 18 year old boy, nevertheless, it was important for him to know pain.

"Without pain, there can be no happiness." His father's sober eyes pierced into Iwazumi's soul, leaving a permanent mark engraved in his brain.

Iwaizumi blinked, shook his head, then turned back to the math that was awaiting him. Why in the world would he be remembering that right now?

In the room next to him, he heard yet another shatter of glass. Iwaizumi cringed, rolled his eyes, and then turned his music up to full volume. This playlist calmed him down in ways he could not explain. Iwaizumi did not understand this; the way music made him feel something.

This feeling that music gave him was immaculate. Unexplainable, if you will. It was close to impossible to understand by anyone he knew. The way he craved this feeling of peace, safety, and real love was always present in his heart. The emptiness he felt inside, this hole. A room full of darkness, dimly lit by whatever kept him going. When he listened to music, however, it was like turning on the light. The warmth of the light comforted him to an extent. How he knew that he could never feel like this fully pained Iwaizumi, even when he did listen to music.

Music was his temporary escape.

It was a way to cope, since he was afraid to do anything to his body. He did try drugs before, but that did not help at all. The anxiety he suffered by the mere thought of hurting himself sent him into countless panic attacks. He could not bear the thought of hurting himself with anything other than drugs. It was funny, in a way. Iwaizumi could never hurt himself with anything, but he was fine with pain. Even blood didn't bother him, as long as he didn't do it to himself. He had grown accustomed to the pain.

More glass shattered. " _That was 3 bottles now, I hope she's okay,_ " Iwaizumi thought. He shook his head, and closed his math textbook. Even though his volume was turned up all the way, he couldn't drown the noise out. He stood up and walked over to his bed. Taking off his shirt, he laid down on his bed. His plastic glow stars stuck to his ceiling, slowly dimming as time went on. Iwaizumi came to the conclusion that he was like the glow stars on the ceiling;

Once a boy full of life, brought to the brink of death by the darkness in the room next to him.

As Iwaizumi closed his eyes, the songs blasting in his ears could not stop the noise from the abuser and abused. He sighed, rubbing his palms on his eyes. He suspected that it was about midnight now, and they were just getting started.

A typical night in the Iwaizumi household went as follows:

Get up at 4:00 am, shower, dress in uniform, brush teeth and hair, bike to school. Come home, get ready for work. Bike to work, work for 4 hours, come home. Go straight up to the bedroom, begin homework, study, sleep.

If Iwaizumi could ever catch a break, it would be spent studying. The only meal he ate through the whole day was at lunch, and even then, it was not a satisfying meal. The hunger had never bothered him, though. Just like the abuse, he had grown accustomed to the hunger. Iwaizumi had to work to support his family, even if it was at the expense of his physical and mental health.

How he wished for a break.

Running himself thin at the brink of death was not something he enjoyed, but this was just the way the world was wired. He must've attempted to off himself over 10 times. The first time he tried was when he was 13 years old, right after he got his third job. Iwaizumi could not stand the stress of the jobs he worked at that age, so he quit two of them.

That night he came out, saying that he dropped two of the jobs, he was hit with a bottle. Green glass shattered all over the floor, and he was pushed into it. His father then proceeded to kick Iwaizumi into the ground, furthering the glass into Iwaizumi's body. It sliced his skin and almost hit his bones. If his father had not passed out, Iwaizumi surely would've died. It left him in a pool of warm, red blood and purple scarring.

That was the least he ever did to him, but it was still enough to make Iwaizumi hate his father.

The details of the worst incident made Iwaizumi's skin crawl with uncomfort, and he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was better to not say anything to anyone about it. Iwaizumi didn't want to be THAT person.

The abused kid, the one who was hit as a kid, the broken, the loser, the ungrateful, the weak.

Iwaizumi Hajime, if anything, was not weak.

He had not come this far to be put down by anyone, so he never told anybody about what went on inside the walls. They just wouldn't be able to understand.

As more glass shattered in the next room over, Iwaizumi pondered on the idea of what life would be like if he was "normal." What would it be like to have a normal family?

_"It must be nice,"_ he thought, running a hand through his short hair.

All his life, Hajime barely knew safety. He was only safe at school, which he lost all motivation to go to. Iwaizumi loved to go to school when he was younger, but now he couldn't stand the feeling of actually going anymore.

He hated the fact that he had to pretend to be okay around other people. When he went to school, to work, even with friends. He hasn't been okay since the fourth grade, and that killed Iwaizumi. If he were to not be okay, he'd surely get hit. It was almost as if he was supposed to be happy all the time.

Outside of the confinement of his house, Iwaizumi was a top notch student, a caring friend, and a great candidate for a lover. He was Japan's most promising student, a skilled volleyball player, and overall a very well rounded guy. Iwaizumi, inside his house, was just the impediment in his parent's lives. The one who ate all the food, spent all the money, and wasted the "precious time" of his parents.

As bottle after bottle shattered, Hajime slowly drifted off into a restless sleep. He was trapped in his dream. Inside his dream, he was running from his father, who held a bottle. They were on the streets of Japan, in the middle of the city. These types of nightmares happened constantly, so Iwaizumi just kept running, somehow knowing that he'd get out soon. If he were to stop running, the bottle would come down over his head.

This dream, though, was different. Breathing heavily, Iwaizume stopped running once he turned the corner into a pitch black alleyway. As Iwaizumi caught his breath, he looked upwards. The light from the billboards shone brightly, a contrast to the navy color of the sky. Iwaizumi was not able to see any of the stars from where he stood. There was a ladder next to him, so he decided to climb it.

_"Grab, step. Grab, step. Grab, step."_ he thought. The metal bar was freeing against his palm, considering that it was the middle of winter. The weather in his life applied to Iwaizumi's dreams, so naturally, he was dressed for whatever went on in his dream. He wore a black jacket with a green turtleneck underneath, ripped black jeans, and white shoes. His hands, which had no gloves, had black nail polish on them.

One of Iwaizumi's passions was fashion. That was a secret he told absolutely no one, in fear of being judged. He had always loved looking at the American fashion magazines as a child before they were confiscated by either his parents or the school. He wished he could talk about this with people, but nobody would accept it.

A man, loving fashion? That was not accepted.

Hiding in fear of being called "faggot" and such, Iwaizumi stored this passion into the closet of his mind. He was constantly thinking about outfits, though. Somehow, they had turned up in his dream. This one one of his outfits that he thought about during school. He usually imagined them when he was at lunch, even when people were talking to or around him. Clothing was always on his mind. He never went a day without thinking about it, and he was not sure if he was able to do so. It kept him somewhat sane.

Iwaizumi reached the top of the building. Hoisting himself up onto the roof, he dusted his chest off. The lights blinded him, but his eyes fixated to them in a matter of seconds. Iwaizume slowly walked over to the edge of the roof.

As he leaned against the concrete wall, he took in the sights of Japan at night. The neon colors flooded his vision. Greens, blues, pinks, purples, reds, yellows, whites of all different colors surrounded Iwaizumi. The glowing billboards were so bright you almost needed sunglasses.

Hajime was at peace.  
This, above all things, was freedom to him. The ability to look out over a landscape and breathe a sigh of relief. He could see the city, far and wide, shining and glowing with the bright lights. It called to him, begging Iwaizumi to explore its twists and turns. With every breath, a new sensation filled Iwaizumi to the brim. The urge to climb down that ladder, find the middle of the city, and just stand, slowly turning around ordered Iwaizumi's every move.

Behind him, a noise occurred. He turned around, and there his father stood, bottle in hand. No words were spoken, but the glare said it all.  
_I am going to kill you._

Iwaizumi's father suddenly charged towards Iwaizumi, who, unfortunately, was unprepared for this attack. An arm raised, a bottle crashed down onto Iwaizume's head. As he reached up to brush the glass out of his face so he could see, the piercing eyes of his father met his own.

Iwaizumi tried to scream, but nothing was able to come out. His father then drove the glass bottle right into Iwaizumi's stomach. Blood filled Iwaizumi's throat, and he coughed it all out. The bottle came down again, but this time, not on his head. Instead, it was shoved down into Iwaizumi's open mouth. Tears swelled in his eyes; the pain was unbearable. The glass mixed with blood, and some even was swallowed by accident.

His father then proceeded to throw Iwaizumi over his shoulder and climb up on the concrete wall. Then, in a blur, he threw Iwaizumi off the building. As Iwaizumi fell, the last thing he saw before blacking out was his father's face.

Jolting upwards in his bead, Iwaizumi was shaking. A cold sweat emerged and took over his body. He climbed over to his pillow and wrapped himself in the blanket on his bed.

As he silently cried with his hand over his mouth, Iwaizumi's body was aquiver with the memories of the nightmare.

This was Iwaizume's life. No matter how hard he tried, the bottles would not go away. 

  



End file.
